Sunday, May 26, 2013

sometimes it's dreadfullyhard to know.to be even slightly certain,because uncertainty clings and circlesjust like nats in summer. how do you know?how do you know what time it is?because when we like something.we want it.we want more of it.we want to be near it.to find it.to search it out.to just look at it.sip it.watch it.absorb it.be with it.see it.have it see you.and sometimesit's time.to notice what's eating at youand move your entire world only to find it.this something.because you know you must.and it's the only answer.don't ask me what this itis.only you can know.for some, it might a friend.a parent.a lover.a city.a dream.for a friend of minethe it wasthe ocean.she heard the craving inside.that voice thatwouldn't seem to leave her be.and so she began listening.(as the brave ones do).she picked up.kissed her family.waved goodbye to lifelong friends.and she moved toward that something.to the ocean.it was time.and she knew it.and so,for eleven whole monthsthis one thing she liked so deeply...she was near it.she touched it.watched it.absorbed it.saw it.and that ocean saw her, too.it was time.and she knew it.and then one day when she hardly expected it,with her windows flung wideto the rolling sounds of the wave & tide...she shut her windows.

why?because it was time.and she knew it.it was time to go back.to move away from the ocean.to be near friends and old family.the choice was full.full of the hardthe easythe goodthe peacefulthe unrestfulthe questionsthe askingthe wonderingthe certainty.and of course,the uncertainty.the choice was all of those things(as any choice that trulymatters often seems to be).

i share this story,i say all of this becausei wonder.i am wondering...do you know what time it is?do you know what itis?do not ask me what your itis dear friend.but listen.listen welland then perhaps you will hear.perhaps you will hear and perhaps you will knowwhat time it is. xxo

Friday, May 24, 2013

Shame on me.No really. I've been meaning to write this post for months now, almost 7 months to be exact. You see, this time I really do deserve a proper "shame on you" finger wagging from myself for this kind of thing. Because when big firsts happen in your life, one should write about them especially if one is already inclined to write about things (which I like to tell myself that I am one of those kinds of people). This first that I speak of actually happened to a friend of mine. One of my oldest and truest friends of all time. She's the one I played dress-up with for hours + hours + hours on end as well as all forms and versions of "house". She's one of those kinds of friends. One of those for-lifers. (You know the type.)

You better believe we scootered, imagined and make-believed our way right out of childhood, into teenaged trials and tribulation (actually we did manage to have quite a bit of fun along the way) and straight into adulthood as real-life grown ups.

And that brings me to the reason I'm writing today. Because last fall when my sweet and dear old friend had her very first not-make-believe-at-all baby boy, I was among one of the firsts to welcome this little man, in all his fresh and squeezable newness, into this world. Want a little peek at him?

I remember walking away from the hospital that day and the transition was so real I could taste it. From little girls to big kids. From little-squirt freshman to how-did-I-get-here seniors. From first-real-job to I-do-and-he-does-too. To pregnant bellies to welcoming in new life. Those kinds of transitions. Unspeakable, really.

It's a privilege. Yes, that's what it is. A complete privilege to journey with another through the transitions and curves of life. Wouldn't you agree?

This is my friend. Her name is Kathryne (and these are the men in her life). She's one of those kinds of friends. One of those for-lifers.

about

just recently. i started listening. started listening to myself. to what was in me. so finally. i am writing. writing. i write to no one. i write to him and her and she. perhaps to you, if our paths cross. so here's to moving around the sun, together.